Desert Rose
by Padfoot Lives
Summary: He aches for what he knows he shouldn't have. Songfic.


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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the books' characters - they belong to J.K Rowling! I also don't own the song "Desert Rose", that belongs to Sting.  
  
Summary: He pines for what he knows he shouldn't have.  
  
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~Desert Rose~  
  
By, ViXeN  
  
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He watched her as she stood there, eyes sparkling with youthful laughter as she talked to her two best friends. God, she'd become so beautiful since he'd last seen her, her hair silky and soft, smelling sweet like spring green apples. Her voice was like honey, washing over him with a musical lilt every time he spoke to her. Her eyes . . . God, those eyes that bored into him with emotion and intensity that made his pulse go into overdrive. 

She was every man's dream. Hot as hell, sweet as heaven, with a smile and a strength that could melt the hardest of hearts. And for so long, his heart had been stone - hardened by what he'd known and what he'd seen. 

Worse than any of the torture he'd endured was this. This was going to destroy him if he couldn't do something about it. 

Yet, what could he do? This was wrong; it had to be. Every human instinct told him it was wrong. And still . . . like a steady drum in an exotic mystery, his heart would keep beating and aching. For her. 

It would kill him. 

  
  


_I dream of rain . . .  
I dream of gardens in the desert sand  
I wake in vain,  
I dream of love . . ._

  
  


Like the dry thirst of the Sahara, he needed her. Hungry, starving, desperate . . . how long was he supposed to go on like this, pretending, hoping, dreaming? 

What he needed was relief. He needed to be free of this fire that threatened to consume him with his desire for her. 

But he knew that would never happen. 

Was it love? Yes, it was. Why else would he feel this urge to protect her from all the pain and grief that seemed to haunt her sometimes? Why else did his blood pressure rise every time some local lout tried to hit on her? Why else did his fingers tighten around his wand every time he saw Draco Malfoy within ten feet of her? 

Oh, yeah, it had to be love. 

She was walking now; with her two companions. They were heading towards the tower . . . towards the place where he would be. After all, they usually did come to see him quite often. 

He needed her to save him. She was the only one who could give him that taste of pure water at the end of a murderous desert. 

  
  


_I dream of fire,  
The dream's attached to a horse that will never tire  
And in the flames,  
The shadows play in the shape of a man's desire . . .  
  
This desert rose,  
Her shadow veils a secret promise  
This desert flower,  
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this_

  
  


Night had fallen. He had escaped before; unable to bear the thought of seeing her and talking to her again, and always, always feeling this way so deep inside. 

Would he have to hide forever? 

He closed his eyes and there she was . . . haunting his thoughts, haunting his dreams, haunting his heart. Her cascade of rich brown ringlets swirled around her face, like the halo of an angel. Eyes that burned with love and with desire for him, but only in his dream. Her lips were soft and perfect, glistening red with the dew of strawberries, waiting for him like he waited for her. A beautiful rose that pierced him terribly with each thorn. 

  
  


_And as she turns . . .  
It's the way she moves in the logic of all my dreams,  
This fire burns,  
I realize that nothing's as it seems . . .  
  
I dream of rain  
I lift my face to empty skies above  
I close my eyes, this rare perfume  
Is the sweet intoxication of love . . ._

  
  


"I love you, 'Mione." he whispered into the night. 

He needed to hear her name, even if it was in his own voice. He needed to feel the words roll off his tongue, sweet and beautiful because it seemed like they were all he had of her. 

Some star in the studded sky twinkled high above. Screaming out his endless loneliness, the deep void of need and love and would never be filled. Was that star telling him he was destined to dream of his rain? 

For even in the brilliant glow of the expanse above, to him, it was empty. 

These shadows were going to follow him for as long as he lived. No matter where he went, no matter how far he burrowed, he would never be free of her perfume, of his own forbidden passion for her. 

He could always give it a shot and try to disappear. He'd become good at that with past experience. Yet he knew, in a way that only a man tortured like he was could, that he would rather face the endless road of the driest desert than go anywhere that would take him away from her. 

His rain was not going to come. 

  
  


_Sweet desert rose,  
Her shadow veils a secret promise.  
Sweet desert flower  
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this_

  
  


Could she possibly know, he wondered. Smart as he was, perceptive as her mind could be, surely she could see his need, his pain, his love. 

Even if she didn't, someday, maybe he'd have the courage to tell her. Maybe then he might know. 

But for now, he knew that he had to be content with just dreaming. 

Footsteps startled him - soft footsteps that echoed gentle against the stone floor as a hazy silhouette approached him. Even before she stepped into the moonlight, he knew it was her. 

And he knew this was the closest he'd ever get to the gardens in the desert sand. 

  
  


_I dream of rain  
I dream of gardens in the desert sand  
I close my eyes, a rare perfume  
Is the sweet intoxication of love . . ._

  
  


For a moment, all he could do was stare at her. Those eyes, those lips, that hair, that body. That expression within her eyes . . . gazing out at him with an intensity that he might have called love if he wasn't so sure that he knew better. 

Her voice was soft and meaningful, bittersweet honey to his bleeding heart. 

"Hey, Sirius." 

Could she really not know? Could it be possible that she actually didn't see the torment she wrecked upon him, without even meaning to? 

And how could she cause him so much joy, and yet so much pain? 

"Hey there, 'Mione," he replied quietly, his voice shaking ever so slightly. 

_Someday . . ._ - He promised himself. Until then, he knew nothing would change. 

He would love her forever, his desert rose. 

  
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THE END  
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*A/N: Just a short songfic that just had to be written down. Please, please review...* 


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